Tra la la, la-la la

Sent hunting
by the picture,
something is found
in the back of the drawer.
Must be…
twenty five years
since it was played;
and, as with my memory,
there is a little distortion
and some notes
blur at the edges.

Life has changed;
you no longer wear
Miami Vice pastels,
but it’s not all
jazz, brass bands
and ol’ rag blues.

I could be dancing now, but you
were never taught to let go,
and even now my love,
the things you don’t show
are frequently more telling
than those you do.

Tra la la, la-la la

Life may hiss and rumble
between tracks,
but always remember
we can write what we want to write
and, however much green bothers you,
we’re not gonna live with fear.